


Another kiss, and you’ll be mine

by saltyplaydough



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Robron Secret Valentine 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 00:30:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17797637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyplaydough/pseuds/saltyplaydough
Summary: Aaron’s usually very aware of the years that have passed since those early months of confusion and chaos. Something about tonight shrinks those years into nothing, though, and Aaron misses him. Suddenly.Desperately. Even when he’s right here.





	Another kiss, and you’ll be mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [matan4il](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matan4il/gifts).



He remembers the first time they’d spent a night together. Remembers watching the pale blue tint of Robert’s skin against the hotel sheets, remembers the breathy little snores that puffed out of Robert’s sleep slack mouth. It’d taken him a long time to fall asleep that night, even though he was exhausted from the drive and from the reason they were there in the first place. He’d been too excited for the chance to soak up every inch of this new Robert; his face relaxed and honest, freshly washed hair drying flat against his head. His fingers had twitched with the sudden need to smooth Robert’s fringe away from his eyes, but he couldn’t risk him waking up to that. So he’d stayed as still as he could and stared like a creep instead, losing himself in the fantasy of another life in a way he was too careful to do when Robert was awake. Taken in every dark freckle, every shift behind his lids. Just in case he never got to have that again.

It’d been a lot easier to convince himself that this was just sex when all they had was a sneaky hour at a time of kissing-fucking-fighting-laughing against the nearest—hidden—uncomfortable surface. Two hours if they were lucky, before Robert had to run back home to keep his already broken promises to Chrissie. But under that duvet? With Robert’s clammy toes seeking his out and Aaron’s heart annoyingly melty with the newly gained knowledge that he mumbled in his sleep?

He’d known then, hadn’t he? For sure. This was something else. Something much more. This was _it_.

The blood had rushed to his ears and he’d felt the heavy _thump thump thump thump_ of his heart right between his eyes. It was meant to be easy, this. Just a bit of fun with the poncey git; a distraction from the dead-end his life had come to. Only, he’d gone and fucked it all up, as usual. Feeling way too much, all at once. And now he was fantasising about stroking the man’s hair, for god’s sake. Acting like he had any right to a normal life when he was just another messed up, self-destructive thug who pushed people away and felt sorry for himself. He had nothing real to offer. Wasn’t sure _he_ was real sometimes.

But maybe that didn’t matter. In this in-between place, where he was Robert’s and Robert wasn’t his, he could play pretend to his heart’s content and get to share in this insane life for a little while. What was a little heartbreak, anyway? Nothing he couldn’t handle. It was a small price to pay for feeling like he was exactly where he belonged when they were alone together.

~~~

“‘ron? Wait,”

He’d been close to sleep when he heard it. Felt his cheeks heat up, bit his lip against the smile that threatened to spill over. It could be anything, really. Robert could’ve just been waking up.

But maybe… _did he dream about him too?_

You see, sometimes he thought Robert might feel the same. When he was feeling brave, when he’d just had a whole hour of Robert smiling at him like he was something _good_ , or–

_You’ll make me think I fell for a quitter._

He’d said that. Like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t blown Aaron away, out of nowhere.

So yeah.

Sometimes he thought he might get to keep whatever this was. Maybe this wasn’t just sex for Robert either. Maybe the best he’ll ever get won’t be one night in a hotel room. Robert wasn’t married yet. Anything could happen. Maybe - just _maybe_ \- this time he’d be enough.

~~~

It’s late.

He’s dipping in and out of consciousness, stroking the slick softness of Robert’s inner thigh and toying with the coarse hair there that kept getting caught under his ring. He could feel Robert’s sweat drying fast, a wave of goosebumps coming up in its wake. Robert insisted on turning any room they slept in into an icebox. Not that Aaron could complain _too_ much when he made up for it by laying his post-sex warm body on top of him, knee curled up around his hip and shoulders pressing Aaron back into the mattress; His very own human blanket against the biting cold.

Aaron’s usually very aware of the years that have passed since those early months of confusion and chaos. Grateful that they’d moved away from all of that and grown closer. He still thinks back fondly of all their firsts, sure he does, but he wouldn’t give up what they have now for anything.

Something about tonight shrinks those years into nothing, though, and Aaron misses him. Suddenly. _Desperately_. Even when he’s right here, pressed so close his scent is almost suffocating and Aaron can really only see about 6 inches of blue-lit skin in front of him. His heart stutters in his chest, and for a quick second, he can’t quite figure out how to get his breath back.

It’s why he thinks the gasp comes from him. Until he feels Robert push his head insistently against his cheek, that is.

“Wha’s that for?” he whines, eyes shut and deeply annoyed frown in place.

 _Is he talking in his sleep again?_ But then he gets out of his head enough to register the tight grip he has on Robert’s inner thigh. Shit. He must’ve pulled at his hair by accident or something.

“Shh, sorry. Go back to sleep,” he says, smoothing over him with his voice and his palm.

He hopes he doesn’t, though. In fact, he’s quite glad he isn’t up on his own anymore, and he’s not ready for Robert to leave him alone again. Aaron’s well aware of how needy he’s being but he can’t handle tonight, doesn’t want to remember feeling so lost and unsure about Robert’s feelings for him. He just has to give Robert a reason to stay up with him.

Aaron slides his hand down under Robert’s arse with more purpose this time, “Or we could…” leaves the suggestion unspoken with his fingers casually cupping Robert’s balls.

“Wha–, again? Ha! Can’t get enough of me, I see.” He’s moved off of Aaron a little so he can wiggle his eyebrows at him like the absolute embarrassment that he is, eyes still barely open. Aaron’s definitely not charmed by it, no. Nor does he want to dwell on why that just makes his dick fill up faster.

“You talk too much for someone who’s just woken up.”

“And _you_ are insatiable,” Robert purrs into Aaron’s neck, sounding pleased and beyond proud of the effect he has on him after all these years.

“Don’t think you’re actually complaining, mate.” Aaron suspects he might not be paying attention anymore, with the way he’s starting to pant hot and wet into his shoulder. That’s probably Aaron’s fault, though. He’s been rubbing his fingers between those cheeks, dipping them into his fucked out hole every few passes and enjoying the helpless little sounds coming from Robert as he pushes back into his hand in vain. Except the movement is dragging Robert’s heavy cock along Aaron’s and now he’s the one frantically pressing him closer and grinding up against him.

“ _Fuck._ ” Four years and he still feels thoroughly shaken up by him, rock hard from seconds of this. Robert tries to line them up better, gets a fist ‘round their cocks, rubs over the top and down the shaft, causing an obscene amount of pre-come to drip. He moves on instinct, chasing that feeling; the high of touching, pushing, stroking, breathing each other in. His erratic rhythm briefly slips when Aaron pulls his leg up higher and shoves his own greedy fingers in, firm, unrelenting. “S’good, Aaron, feels– Aaron, I–” Aaron catches his lips with his own. He knows he’s probably still feeling sore from earlier, _knows_ how wild Robert gets at that little extra bit of hurt as Aaron rubs his wide fingers up into him and tugs at his rim, and he wants to give him something else to focus on. Wants this moment to last as long as it can.

Robert’s too exhausted to kiss. Instead, he tongues at his mouth, licking in and breathing hot all over. There’s not a hint of finesse. It’s sloppy and too wet and everything Aaron needs now, _god_ , it makes his cock pulse so hard he’s feeling it in his toes.

He feels Robert start to rut against him, his strokes turning more insistent, little _ah ah ah_ s pushed out against his cheek, and knows he’s nearing the edge. Aaron’s not ready though, and he doesn’t want to be left behind. It’s stupid, yeah, but he really can’t bear the thought of Robert getting off and falling asleep again, leaving him alone with the thoughts he’s been trying to ignore. It’s too late, though. Robert spills himself over his knuckles. Biting down on Aaron’s lip on reflex before licking over it in distracted apology while Aaron slips his fingers out of him and pets his bum with regret. He moves to look down at Aaron, giddy, satisfied smile in place, right up until it freezes and turns confused instead. Something of Aaron’s quiet dread must’ve bled through on his face and in the way he holds on tighter because Robert suddenly looks more awake than he’s been this entire time.

“Hey. Hey, come on, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, just stay with me.” It rushes out of him, urgent, and that’s just great, isn’t it? He sounds like a right nutter. Robert seems to agree as well, going by the look on his face.

“Yeah, ’course. Where else would I be, you idiot?” He’s laughing at him but he’s doing it in that soft way of his, so Aaron doesn’t feel too embarrassed. He’s trying not to, at least.

“Right. Where were we?” Robert barely gets the words out before he’s got Aaron thrusting up into the fist wrapped around his cock. He pins him down by sitting on his knees and sets a maddeningly steady pace, stubbornly not giving in to Aaron’s pleas for him to go faster, _slower_ , and all Aaron can do is hold on for the ride as he’s shoved quite rudely over the edge.

He blinks his eyes open and all he sees is Robert, looking straight at him as he licks their come off his fingers. He’s _spent_ , it shouldn’t be so mind-numbingly hot. But he lets out a tortured little groan anyway, as he feels himself give a final twitch.

He might have gotten a little carried away with watching pink mouth slide against wet skin, his own falling open in helpless echo, so he doesn’t really register it getting closer until he feels hot breath on his lips. And then Robert’s kissing him, feeding come into his mouth, dominating him with that bitter saltiness. All Aaron knows to do then is pull him down the whole way and _take_.

~~~

It takes him a while to gather his wits after that. He’s probably staring up at Robert with a come-stupid smile, but he can’t quite muster the energy to rearrange his face into something half decent. Robert smiles at him, thumbs fondly at his kiss-sore lips, before bending down for one more kiss, two more, a nibble, like he can’t keep away.

“There,” Robert pats him on the cheek, condescending pout on in full force. _God, what now?_ “Stop thinking so much. No need to stress your brain out for no reason.”

What a twat. “Ugh, get lost.” He pushes him off, still somewhat shaky from the orgasm, and turns onto his side before Robert can catch his scowl slipping. He really doesn’t need the encouragement.

“No, Aaron, I can’t, or you’ll be sad again,” Robert declares, overly dramatic, overly _irritating_ , as he pulls Aaron backwards onto their bed, and dives in to plant damp kisses all over his face. “Robert, nonono, stop!” He’s in tears because Robert’s jammed his fingers into his sides and he’s _relentless_. There’s no way he’s going down without a fight now. They tussle in bed for a minute more, until Robert accidentally slaps him hard in the nose with an errant, flailing arm and nearly ends up on the floor trying to escape Aaron’s vengeful kick.

He pulls him towards the middle of the bed, keeps pulling until Robert gets the hint and lays over him again (honestly, fuck this icebox room), and rolls his eyes at Robert’s grumblings about how he _could have really hurt his back, Aaron_. “Yes, alright, time for bed, grandad.”

12:30 am, the bedside alarm reads. Yeah, it’s time for bed.

“Happy Valentine’s, Mr Dingle.”

Robert snores in response.

~~~

“Y’know, this would’ve been a lot more romantic if you’d just stayed in bed like you were supposed to.” Robert’s trying to make them some ricotta pancakes, except he’d forgotten to make the strawberry glaze last night, and now he’s going to have to do that while making sure the pancakes don’t burn. And Aaron’s been no help whatsoever, sitting on the countertop with his foot wandering up Robert’s leg every ten seconds. He’s _this_ close to turning the heat off and dragging him back upstairs, except he knows that’s been Aaron’s plan all along and he’s not giving in to it, damn it. He’s waited long enough for this.

“Tch. You were takin’ too long.” His voice is all sleep rough, eyes still slowly blinking away the night, as the beginnings of a pout take form on his lips. God, he’s so–

No. Focus, Sugden.

He moves a couple more steps to the left and continues mashing the strawberries. Let’s see him try his seduction tactics from all the way over there. He sneaks a glance at Aaron then, sees him sulk at the new distance between them. But at least he isn’t moving to rectify it. Good. Now he can concentrate on making this the best Valentine’s day breakfast Aaron has ever had.

~~~

“Ey, could you pass me the cheese? It’s behind…” Robert realises his mistake too late, as Aaron slowly slides off the countertop in a way that pulls his T-shirt taut over his chest, grabs the packet of ricotta behind him, and makes his way over to where Robert’s been innocently mixing the wet ingredients. All the while maintaining intense eye contact.

“Here you go.”

“Uh, thanks.” He sounds like he’s had sand with his morning coffee.

Aaron hops back on again, this time, much closer to Robert. He leans back on his arms a little, dropping his eyes down to Robert’s mouth before skimming them back up. “Don’t mention it.”

Ok, that’s it. He’s spent too much time and money having David order this particular brand of ricotta that’s supposed to be _out-of-this-world, creamy_ according to suzy_bakes:)_52. He’s not having Aaron sabotage his plans with his _face_. “If you’re trying to distract me from my pancakes, it won’t work. They’re going to be perfect, so help me!” Aaron looks… alarmed. Which is fair, considering how shrill his voice got at the end there. “I’m not trying to keep you from your pancakes, you muppet.”

Oh. Then why was he… _oh_.

“What?” Aaron wants to know, smile already stretching in response to Robert’s.

He remembers how Aaron was last Valentine’s day, of course he does. It had been the best night in a _long_ while.

It’s just. He’d been too nervous to appreciate the looks, then. So he’d shied away from every heated stare instead. Made desperate excuses to himself for every flirty grin he got. Timid in a way he’d never been before, even as his heart stubbornly lit up with new hope. He wasn’t going to overstep.

His friendship with Aaron hadn’t been new, no, but it’d been confusing. It had grown out of everything else they felt for each other, and he hadn’t known how to be one without being all of it. He’d tried though, had to, to stay in Aaron’s life. And Aaron—as usual—had refused to be helpful in any way, giving away soft words and softer smiles like he was done holding them in. Like he was _allowed_ to.

He doesn’t want to think about that anymore. Not when he gets to bask in this now. He sets his bowl down and moves to stand between Aaron’s legs. The pancakes can wait. “Do you like seeing me in the kitchen, is that it? Maybe I should nick a chef’s hat from the pub next time. Work it into our bedroom repertoire.”

“Alright,” Aaron squints up at him in disgust, even as his hands slide under his shirt to pull him in closer, “you don’t have to get all weird about it.”

“Right, I’m the weird one here.”

“Always.” But then he breaks into a smile so unbearably tender, Robert’s finding it hard to take offence. He’d be more embarrassed if he wasn’t so selfish. No one’s ever been _this_ for him, before. Known every part of him. _Fought_ with every part of him, and still looked at him like he was something amazing. The way he feels when Aaron looks at him like that—He never wants to lose it again. He won’t.

“Don’t worry so much about today, Rob. We’ll make it perfect for us. Just like we did last year.”

Except better. Because this time, Robert gets to trade aimless kisses with Aaron, and think about maybe bringing this over to the couch to turn into a proper make-out session since Liv’s still out with Jacob. Only, he’s interrupted by a cheeky slap on the bum and Aaron pulling back with a self-satisfied smirk. “You can get back to work now. Wouldn’t want to come between you and your precious pancakes.”

“ _Our_ precious pancakes,” Robert corrects, just to see him snort.

Then he turns back to the bowl because these eggs aren’t going to beat themselves. And if he flexes his arms a little, folding the ricotta in, well. Aaron’s not going to complain, is he?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it :) I'm [spamela-hamderson](https://spamela-hamderson.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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